Page 84 of The Royal Art of Revenge

She bows her head. “Yes, miss.” She picks up the bags Marina can’t manage, and together, the two of them haul my goodies upstairs.

“Did your clients really not show up?” Jasmine is sitting up now, and she’s cradling her cup of what smells like coffee as if it’s a lifeline. Her knuckles are white, and there’s a slight tremble to her grasp.

“Why would I lie about that?” I tilt my head to one side. “It happens. Emergencies, illnesses, sometimes people just change their mind. That’s why I take a deposit. Why?”

“I was only asking.” Her haughty tone is weaker than usual. “I thought it strange, that’s all.”

“Why? Do you know my clients from today?”

“No!” The word bursts out of her, and she catches herself, faking a sip from her mug before setting it down. “No, of course not. Why would I?”

“I don’t know. It’s a small world, after all.” I pause, then smile coolly at her. “Well, this catch up was… lovely, but I have things to do. Are you done interrogating me, detective?”

Jasmine scoffs and lies back on the sofa, reaching her hand between the cushions and retrieving her phone. “As if I care what you do. As long as you’re out of my way, you can do whatever you want.”

“Thank you for your permission, ma’am,” I retort dryly. “Is that all? May I be excused from your most esteemed presence?”

“You—” She clenches her jaw, and the heat in her gaze would burn a lesser person. “I can’t wait to move out of here. Anything to get away from you.”

“Ah, yes, to your exquisite abode in the Royal Palace.” I walk towards the door, then glance back at her. “Don’t forget that you’re not engaged yet, Jasmine.”

“I’m as good as!” Anger flushes her cheeks bright red, and the ugliest side of her glints in her eyes. “In fact, Her Majesty called to speak to Mum to arrange things just this morning!”

Ha!

It takes everything within me not to laugh, and I simply smile at her over my shoulder.

“I’m sure she did,” I say airily. “Well, I can’t wait to hear all about it.”

***

I’m a wolf in sheep’s clothing.

Standing here in the Royal Palace, on a literal pedestal, while two women help me into the prettiest gown I’ve ever seen in my life, is a liar.

I am a liar.

This dress? It doesn’t suit me. It might be the exact shade of red as my favourite lipstick—the one that colours my lips at this very moment—but it’s not meant for me.

The skirt is too full. The glittering embroidery that adorns the bodice and long lace sleeves is too sparkly. The necklace that hangs around my neck is too timeless, too priceless, too much for someone like me.

Because it all hides something.

The princess skirt hides my trembling legs, showing an air of confidence I don’t truly possess.

The necklace hides my bare skin, acting as an armour, something for unkindness to bounce off.

The lace sleeves hide my new scars, the small ones I gave myself, the ones that tell the story of my painful nightmare.

I am a fraud. A liar. A master of deception.

Because tonight, when I walk out there and I’m announced as Finn’s fiancée, everything will change. Everyone will see the person I want them to see. A bold, fearless woman infatuated with the crown prince. Someone who loves and is loved. Someone strong enough to lead their country but humble enough to ask for help. Someone brave enough to step forwards one day but hang back the next.

And they will believe me. The richest people in St Peters—in the entire country of Askurg—will see exactly who I want them to see.

The missing girl who found her way home.

The miracle the Queen has prayed for.